Michael moved off the bed, removing her shoes and socks, tucking a blanket around her as she rest. He knew what he'd have to do, he had to rebuild every piece of her, until she was reborn into a world where her life was still tragic, but her body wouldn't be the living evidence of such a thing.

Zuriel awoke with a start, her heart hammering hard against her rib cage. Her form was sitting straight up in a bed she didn't recognize as her hands clutched tight to the comforter around her. She gasped and let the air from her lungs out slowly between her lips, trying to calm herself. The girl screwed her eyes shut tight, letting the images fade away as a weight dipped the bed to her right.

"It's alright now, Zuriel, you're alright." Michael's voice was a soft whisper, speaking slowly as if the normal tempo of his voice would startle her. His hands came up to cup her cheeks, leaning his forehead in against hers. She nodded ever so slightly, her trembling hands coming up to hold onto the front of his shirt; her nails digging into the fabric.

"Shh, shh." He moved his hands down slowly down her arms to wrap around her frame, embracing her and nudging her head to rest against his chest. Zuriel did so, whimpering into the hold. They stayed like that for a long moment, Michael holding her while she clutched to him like a lifeline.

Eventually the panic faded and she managed to sit up, she wiped at her face and he stayed where he was, his eyes roaming over her expression as his hands stayed at her sides. Zuriel didn't seem to notice, her thin, discolored fingers going through her hair; attempting to smooth it out.

"Thank you." Michael just smiled as she reached forward to smooth out the front of his shirt where her hands had fisted into the material, a nervous laugh escaping her lips. The angel could tell she was already learning to trust him, he was completely unlike her mother, or her many boyfriends that slapped her around.

"No need to thank me Zuriel." A minor blush creeped across the young girl's face, her hands slipping off his torso. The angel could sense her shift in mood as he pulled the cover away from her body to help her out of bed. Zuri held his forearm for balance, feeling her belly growl suddenly, her blush darkening at least three shades.

"I'm sorry, that's so…" Michael shook his head, leading her into the kitchen with a silent pull on her hand to follow; letting her unfinished sentence hang in the air.

Resting on the kitchen table was a roasted chicken breast on a bed of white rice with a veggie mix beside it. Zuriel licked her lower lip at the sight, taking note of a bottled water beside the plate of food. "I made you dinner, considering you haven't eaten in at least three days." A look of surprise crossed her face, her mouth forming to ask a question when his hand came up to brush through her thick hair, briefly cupping the back of her skull.

"Go eat now, love." His hand lowered to her back, gently nudging her forward. Zuriel couldn't protest or speak anymore, her stomach rumbling yet again. She settled into the chair, beginning to eat in silence as Michael moved around the kitchen, cleaning up the dishes he used to make her dinner.

Zuriel realized about halfway through her meal that she was rushing to eat, she slowed down, reminding herself she wasn't home. This wasn't her mother tossing her scraps, this wasn't her having to hole up in her room away from her mother's boyfriend. This was Michael, an Angel that took great steps to save her life.

She leaned a bit to her left, then right, adjusting in the chair as her bony back pressed into the wooden seat. Zuriel heard a quiet sigh behind her, she froze at the sound and begun to turn her head. Michael came towards her though, giving her a reassuring smile as he sat in a chair to her left.

"Is something wrong?" Zuriel could hear how she spoke to her mother, the way her words were short, quick and quiet. She must have looked frightened, because Michael held out his hand, palm up on the table. Her amber gold eyes fell to his hand, her fingers slipping into his, his thumb rolling gently over the back of her hand.

"Something is wrong, but it isn't you. It is about your condition which is not your fault."

Her brows furrowed at his words, the fork in her other hand setting down against the plate. "What do you mean?" Michael held her gaze as he took in a slow breath through his nose, letting it out through his mouth quickly as he began. "You have never gone a day without being abused, your body has been constantly covered in bruises, old and new, cuts, scraps and your muscles always holding a terrible ache. You're nearly twenty now, you're underweight and your skin is marred in the history of your battle with mistreatment."

Zuriel had barely been breathing, having always been told that she could never speak of what they did to her. Michael knowing means he had been watching, he had been waiting to come to her aid. A part of her thought she should be angry he didn't come sooner, but the other told her to understand; Michael being an angel meant he had to obey God. And, obviously God felt she wasn't ready for such a change. He had waited until she was about to die before sending her help. And that alone, made her angry with God.

Michael had paused briefly, breaking eye contact before returning to holding her gaze. He could see her vision become glazed as he continued. "What I am saying, is that you shouldn't be so thin and so frail. The remainder of your body should look as impeccable as your lower torso." The angel moved in closer as he slipped onto his knees, his fingers skimming to come under the thin fabric of her shirt.

With a slight, almost hesitant nod, she watched as he tugged the material up to rest once again under her bust. He held it there as her eyes blew wide at the sight. Her caramel skin, though pale was clean and held no scars, no bruises and no cuts. The flesh was perfect and for the first time she noticed her ribs were free of pain.

A few tears slipped down her face as Michael released her shirt to wipe them away. "Hush, now sweet girl. I can make the rest of you just as whole again." He stood once more, kissing the crown of her head and brushing her hair back over her shoulders. Michael set the fork in her limp fingers, encouraging her to eat.

"Finish dinner, we have more to discuss."

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